Sacrifices we make
by Sharline Nebula
Summary: As Dan thinks about his complicated friends-with-benefits relationship with Phil, he starts wondering about what the future brings. And he realizes that maybe, once wonderful and now torturing things must come to an end at some point. Even if that means breaking your heart.
1. Let me let you go

Sacrifices we make

Often Dan would find himself wishing that the cold would leave with the wind. It was no secret that it was always a struggle to cope with all the aspects that made up his life. One of the hardest things he had to cope with, though, was undoubtedly the cold -the metaphorical cold. For him every emotion was connected to a physical feeling:

Happiness as warmth on his cheeks and chest. Excitement as playful tickles in his belly. Anxiety as nausea and an unpleasant twist in his gut. Infatuation as a flattering of his heart (the first time he genuinely thought he was having a heart attack, no joke). Sadness as a constant looming headache, that most of the time was there and would sporadically fluctuate and could be an insignificant buzz or a paralyzing piercing through his scalp. And loneliness, well, that just felt like cold. Chilling, freezing cold. And even though he was surrounded by people most of his life, the cold never seemed to go away.

There was a time when the cold seemed to be going away. It was when he was starting to spent more time with Phil, his now best friend, back in 2009. He genuinely thought that he might never be cold ever again in his life. Phil was radiating heat every time he smiled- and he smiled all the fucking time. He was the personification of the sun and he gave Dan the best kind of tickles in his belly and warmth in his chest. So who would blame him when he though that he might have found the one?

Well, for one, the logical part of his brain wasn't too happy about this. Feelings are complicated and hard to deal with, especially when you're eighteen and basically hormones on legs. It's hard to differentiate between love and infatuation, or connection and lust. And he knew that. He also knew that Phil was important. He couldn't yet pinpoint exactly why, but he knew it wasn't just because he was somewhat of a cool boy. But everything about him and about _this_ was uncertain and blurry. And he hated uncertain and blurry. So he did what he had to do to keep himself busy, and he smiled when he had to, but he never let himself get too carried away by whatever _this_ was.

From his online research, the term that would fit best to their arrangement would be friends with benefits. Best friends with benefits. And it was fantastic. It was fun and it was exciting and easy and so fucking good that whatever drawback he initially had about the nature of this affair disappeared into thin air. The sex was mind blowing. The friendship was strong as ever. Commitment was nowhere to be seen. Things were good.

Until, of course, the inevitable doom. Dan realized he had caught feelings when he had caught the flu, in the winter of 2014. Their arrangement was going strong for roughly five years by then and everything was peachy. Until he sneezed, and then developed a fever, and at last remained in bed rest for two days. Phil made him soup and sat beside him, watching episodes from their favourite shows. It was nice. Too nice. Flattering-in-his-heart-and-warmth-in-his-chest nice. And that's when he knew he loved the man sitting beside him.

That's also when he realized he was absolutely and utterly fucked. Because he might love Phil, but he still hated commitment, and he still was scared of vulnerability and actual feelings.

And then there's also that Phil didn't love him back.

So he stayed silent ever since and he swallowed the words that threatened to come out of his mouth now and again. He held back his hands from doing gestures too sweet or too loving. Because that would be obvious and would eliminate everything he had cautiously built over the years.

Looking back, he still thinks that that was the wiser choice. Not necessarily the best, but definitely the wiser and safer. And safer is always better. (Right? )

"Phil", Dan was staring at his computer screen at something, he honestly couldn't remember what it was for the life of him.

"Do you remember when we first met?"

Phil was sitting on the armchair next to the window, which was starting to get kind of foggy. The temperature in the room was much higher than outside, and had he noticed the fog on the window sooner he would have been drowning a ballon or a smiley face on the glass by now. Winter could have its upsides.

"'Course I do. Can you believe it's been ten years?" He smiles to himself. Dan did too. It didn't really reach his eyes.

"Yeah, it's crazy. It's been great." His voice was low and sweet and sort of out of focus, and he really should watch those lumps in his throat because it's getting embarrassing.

"How come you were thinking of that? Don't tell me that Danny's getting all nostalgic on me on Christmas Eve." He said in a playful tone with a smirk on his lips. The spark in his eyes never left, Dan thought to himself. Maybe it never will.

"I'm not getting nostalgic. I'm just amazed that you survived this long. And I have tolerated you for this long. Honestly, it beats me." Dan's face was getting a teeny tiny bit pink, and he smiled whilst putting mock annoyance on his face. His freshly acquired playful mood though disappeared as fast as it came.

"Phil, do you ever think about the future?" He whispers, his voice much more gentle and cautious than his usual teasing tone.

"Like near future, like where-will-we-go-for-the-holidays future, or more far away future? Are we talking years into the future? Because if that's the question, I really am not up for brainstorming a new idea for a next tour, we just came home and all I want is to be swallowed by my bed. And I suspect you would feel the same if you didn't operate in such weird hours, like seriously, what sane person would have a 3-10 am sleeping schedule, Dan? We gotta fix this-"

"Phil you're going out of topic again, focus"

"Yeah, sorry, so what's the case?"

" I guess in the long run, how do you see the future? Like, who's in it? And what are you doing with your life? Roughly, what do you think?"

Phil exhales slowly and lowers his phone, putting it down on his lap. He looks tired right that moment, like a wave of responsibility and adulthood was dumped upon him, maybe not for the first time ( he's a thirty year old man, it'd be alarming if adulthood hadn't hit him yet), but it was certainly not an usual occurrence, that realization. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes for a bit, as he starts talking.

" I guess I'd want something stable and reliable, maybe I could start a part time job so don't have to be constantly worried about work. Being an independent creator has taken somewhat of a toll on me, even if I love every second of my work. The uncertainty that surrounds me can be a bit stressful at times. Maybe I'll have kids, I'd love to have kids one day. Have sleepless nights because the baby keeps waking up, and helping my baby take its first steps, reading books and putting it to sleep. And then the first day of kindergarten I'll probably cry more than the kid when the lessons start and I have to go. I hope I'll get all that one day."

He has a dozed off look on his face, not quite like daydreaming but not focused, and he's smiling faintly, but simultaneously his eyes look more sad than hopeful, and it _breaks_ Dan.

He wants to cry. Dan actually wants to cry. Phil wants to have a family, with children, knowing him, he probably wants a dog and a house in the suburbs to complete the whole package, and it kills him. It kills him because that's everything he himself wants, and most of all he wants it with Phil. He wants a family, and he wants to settle down, and he wants to do all the lame, stereotypical things parents do with their children. He wants to hold them when they cry because they fell down while playing hide and seek, and he wants to play I Spy with them during long car rides, and he wants to pack them lunch to take to school. And he feels a part of him break inside him, because he doesn't want any of that without Phil by his side.

And that's when he knows that, no matter how hard it is to say the truth, he needs to say it, at least once, so he can have closure. So he stops this playing around that Phil and he have, this once wonderful and now torturing arrangement of theirs, so they can finally both move on. Or at least Phil can move on. Because even though he wants desperately this perfect family with Phil, he wants to see him happy even more. That's how he knows he loves him, truly and deeply. Because he's ready to let him go. Even if that means being alone.

"Phil, I think we should stop being friends with benefits."

ΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞΞ

Hi,

This is the first part of a two part short story, I hope you liked it this far. English is not my first language so there might be grammatical or spelling errors. So, I would greatly appreciate it if you pointed out any mistakes I made, so I can improve myself.

Until next time,

Best regards

Sharline Nebula


	2. Something Borrowed

"Phil, I think we should stop being friends with benefits."

Phil knew he was fucked, when he realized he had been talking about his dream house, like a stereotypical 50s wanna-be-housewife.

And he was fucked, big time.

-/-

Phil had always been a really happy kid. He loved playing hide and seek with his friends on school breaks, and he loved dressing up to play his part in plays, and he loved to help his mum with the cooking at home. He was a happy kid, for most of his childhood.

And then, the teenage years came, and without the faintest of warnings, he wasn't all that happy anymore. He still had friends he hanged out with day to day. He still cooked dinner once in a while. He still smiled when he faced the people in his life every day. But it didn't really reach his eyes. And he could not, for the life of him, explain why.

He had all he wanted. Well, maybe not all he wanted, he wasn't some kind of prince, but he certainly had all he needed, all the components that were necessary for a person to be satisfied, to be happy. And yet he wasn't, and that made him feel so fucking guilty, because he knew that many people had it a lot worse than him.

This looming sadness, this melancholy that after some time became a constant in his life seemed to fade a little bit when he started getting to know Dan. It didn't disappear, mind you, but at times when he had those long conversations with him about their hopes and dreams, or when they played Mario Kart on his couch, he momentarily seemed to somehow forget to be sad. And after their little arrangement was established, those blissful, forgetful moments seemed to multiply and his life seemed to finally make a little more sense.

When they first met, he never thought that this awkward and yet so captivating boy could ever settle for an intimate relationship with him. Dan had this aura about him, that just radiated confidence and charisma, even when he didn't feel all that charming. He was the nerdy kind of cute Phil was just so attracted to, and he didn't even realize the effect he had on him. And then Phil just straight up kissed him while they were playing some console game and things kind of went on from there. But when he asked Dan what their relationship was going to be, he just brushed it off and said that they were young and free and they shouldn't burden themselves with unnecessary labels that were designed merely for society's sake. And Phil said "Sure, that's what I had in mind anyway."

You know. Like a fucking liar.

At first he didn't quite get why they had to keep their thing casual, why they had to guard it like it was this dirty little secret that no one could ever know about, or at least confirm that was true. He didn't understand why it had to be a thing, why it couldn't be a relationship, a romantic partnership, an official bond. The concept of "living while they're young and free" made no sense to him. What was so wrong with labels, anyway? But Dan seemed pretty adamant about it, and he didn't want to push his luck, especially when he had just started to actually enjoy life again. So he rolled with it, and he refrained from using titles that might give away the fantasies he had formed about them in his head, and he did everything he could to ensure that, whatever happened, Dan would be a constant in his life. A constant that would rival the sadness that threatened him every day.

After spending some more months with the boy, Phil concluded that the reason behind Dan's secrecy was this bizarre allergy he had to commitment, this aversion he had towards emotions that are stronger than anger and sadness. And he realized that, if he wanted to keep him around, he couldn't scare him away with his feelings, he couldn't show him all the things he had envisioned about their life together, beyond the casual sex and the stolen make out sessions, and it killed him.

It killed him because he hated keeping things from him, because he hated the uncertainty that surrounded their affair, because he hated living in fear of his feelings being found out and being left by the man he was so obviously and desperately fallen in love with at some point, years back.

But Dan was his lifeline, and if he was to be killed by the love of his life, then so be it; he would take it with grace. Because he couldn't lose him, not when he was the one thing that was holding him together. Not when, even unknowingly, he was the one that helped him put one foot after another every day. He refused.

And right now, hearing the words he was so afraid of for so long, he can feel his heart shattering into tiny, atom-sized pieces, that only one person can piece back together.

And boy, does it feel fucking crashing.

"And how did you come to think that, exactly?"

Phil really is trying to sound casual, but he has an inkling that his voice has come out sounding more squeaky than normal, and that his eyes might have a tad more panic in them than usual. His palms suddenly feel sweaty and he can hear the fast pace of his heart, pounding through his rib cage.

He knows that that is simultaneously the best and worst time to panic. The best, because few other times would be as fitting as right now to start panicking, to start breaking down because this fragile life he had formed the past decade was falling apart. The worst, because he knows that, if Dan saw the emotion that threatened to spill out of him, the intensity, the earnesty of it, he would instantly know just how deep the affection Phil so wholeheartedly provided was rooted. And, given his commitment issues, the boy would run for the hills, never to look back again. And that simply cannot happen.

"We've both changed a lot over the years, Phil." Dan keeps his gaze fixed to his hands, fidgeting with his phone, his restlessness showing just how uneasy he feels in that moment.

"You yourself just said you'd like a family, with children, something more stable. I can't see a better way for you to start planing for that future than to end whatever this thing we have is. I suspect whatever your target group for potential partners is, they won't appreciate a fuck buddy still being in your calendar, if you know what I mean." Dan chuckles, hoping to lighten the thick atmosphere of the room.

Neither of them talks for a while, neither of them knows how to proceed. They have never in the ten years that they spent together, felt the true weight of their affair sink in quite this much, nor confronted their relationship as something that might hold them back, because they both knew that they were a constant source of support for each other, to the point where it just felt wrong to be apart. For some their co-dependency might seem unhealthy, but for them, it was their -maybe too comfortable- reality.

Dan felt his Adam's apple move as he swallowed, a lump having formed in his throat. He tried to blink the moisture that had formed away from his eyes, ever so discretely tilting his head to prevent Phil form looking into them, from seeing how hard this is for him. From seeing him, for all that he is.

A man in love, with seemingly no better choice.

"Dan"

Phil's voice is cracking now, and he can't stop it to save his life. The room is too quiet and the floor looks like it's moving, but everything is standing still, so it must be his mind, play games with him, betraying him at the worst possible moment. He hates the feeling forming in his chest, of total helplessness and desperation. He hates thinking that after all this time, he has shed so many walls when it came to Dan, walls he had built over the years to protect his fragile reality and the people surrounding them, that he has no defenses against him, nor any self respect for that matter, to not show his weakness in front of him.

He hates it. But at this point, he does t care.

"You've met someone, haven't you?" The tears now are falling, but he doesn't notice. "You wanted a way out of this, and instead of telling me the truth, like you should be doing, with me being your best friend, you're actually trying to make it seem like this is some kind of merciful way of releasing me of my bonds to you, or whatever fairy tale you've built in your head? Did you really think that this is what is best for me?"

His words are angry, but his voice isn't. He wishes so bad that it was, but it really couldn't be, because the anger he feels isn't nearly as strong as his hurt, and he just sounds utterly, completely broken. He sounds shuttered and betrayed, and he understands for the first time in these ten years something he hadn't ever realized before.

That whenever he said his name, it sounded like something borrowed.

"I love you."


	3. Idontwanttolovesomebodyelse

"I love you."

-/-

Had they not been worried that the world might fall apart, they probably would have laughed at the break-up-but-not-break-up-turned-stand-off situation.

At that moment, the cosmos seemed to stand still and time ceased to pass, their eyes locking and their breathing ragged.

"You think there's someone else? Phil, this is without a doubt the most absurd thing I've ever heard. Who could I find that'd be more important to me than you? What bounds are you even speaking of?"

Dan was breathing a bit more irregularly, trying (and undoubtedly failing) to keep his composure and not let the panic sink in just yet. He's wishing he was better at lying, to others and to himself.

No matter how much he tried to lie though, and how much he enjoyed being oblivious to his emotions, it was hard to live in denial.

And it was even harder to lie to Phil.

(Maybe because, deep down, he didn't want to.)

Dan looked down at the white tiles of their apartment, focusing on a small crack at one of the edges of the tile right next to their dinner table. Fixed on the crack that suddenly seemed to symbolize their complicated relationship, now maybe damaged beyond repair, it was evident that the time has come for the playing around to stop, and for them to let each other go.

"Phil, don't tell me you love me." He swallowed as a tear run down his cheek, his voice trembling, betrayingly out of his control. "The way you love me won't give you the future you want and, believe it or not, I love you too much to let you sacrifice your dreams for the sake of convenience."

Phil was left looking at him, jaw trembling and his eyes just barely containing the tears that had welled up in his eyes. Crossing his arms, he tried to slow his breathing.

"For the sake of convenience? You think I see you as a pice of meat? Truly you must be joking, Dan." His voice was low, barely above a whisper. He looked hurt, and sad, and so small at that moment, wishing for the whole conversation to be part of some weird dream and not reality.

He knew he should have never agreed to this no strings attached rapport, to something so fragile and delicate. Right then he glimpsed at the consequences of it, of the bitter end it was doomed to have, of the grant loss that it would bring. The loss of not only a lover, but a best friend.

"You say you love me, but I think that if you did you'd never tell me that I see you as an object, and not as my best friend."

The tears finally fell from his eyes and the wet tracks that they left on their way glistened, reflecting the warm light of their living room lamp.

Dan suddenly felt ashamed about the phrasing of his words, realizing what they could imply and how they could hurt his friend. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, Phil interjected.

"The first time we woke up in the same bed was after one of those wild college parties you went to, remember?"

Dan looked at him confused, failing to see what was the point in changing the conversation to something so emotion-filled.

"Yeah, we had gotten a cab and ended up in your apartment. We were so, so drunk." His mouth involuntarily did a half smile at the memory. Before they had left for the party they had talked about what those make out sessions they had grown accustomed to meant, and he had in a panic-infused frenzy said that they were just that and nothing more. He had started this monologue about life and youth and freedom of expression, that looking back he realized made no sense, and lastly just through in there that it was just practice for all the partners that were to come.

Who could have imagined that there wouldn't be any.

"I wish we weren't drunk the first time we slept together. I wish it would have meant something." He whispered, and kept his eyes on the broken tile.

Phil exhaled and looked at him with a sad smile. "It meant something to me, you know."

Dan's eyes moved from the floor to Phil's face, with a shocked and maybe even hopeful expression.

"Dan, how can you not understand it? How can you believe that all the times we were together I was there because it was just convenient?"

With his voice breaking at every second syllable, Phil's tears now were flowing completely freely, and he looked just tired and hurt and disappointed.

_"How can you believe that I don't love you?"_

There was a pause where both of them couldn't speak, the one out of shock, the other out of fear of weeping.

"My biggest problem the past decade is that I can't love anyone but you."

Phil, stood up and went to leave the room. Right then though, Dan grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. "Wait."

"I love you, Phil. As in, I am in love with you, I have been ,literally, for years. It never even crossed my mind that you might feel the same. I thought, after I shot down the possibility of us as an item back when we met, that you wouldn't ever want to be with me again. I'm sorry."

Phil kneeled down so their heads were on the same weight, smiled and put his palms on Dan's cheeks, his thumbs grazing the tops of his cheekbones.

"I'm sorry, too.", he said, and he kissed him. The kiss was short and sweet, more like a peck on the lips, but to them it meant the end of pretending that their connection was just a friendship loosely intertwined with random physical affection. It was friendship, that was their founding ground after all, but it has blossomed into a love that was far from platonic.

"Maybe we could start again, from the beginning."

Phil grinned.

"Wanna go on a date?"

——————————————-

Finally finished! Honestly, now that I read it again it's very dramatic and cringe, but I guess it helps that experimented now than later when it might actually matter lol

Leave a comment if you read this, I really would like to hear your opinion

Hugs and kisses,

Sharline Nebula 


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